Chapter 99 – Something the World Cannot Touch
POV: Anastasia Celeste Volkov
The world was howling for him.
It scratched at every digital surface, stormed every corner of the internet, demanded answers from every person who might've once stood beside him on stage.
Kang Jaeheon is missing.
The headlines pulsed like a heartbeat across networks and newsfeeds.
But he wasn't missing.
He was asleep in the guest room of her penthouse — beneath handwoven sheets, surrounded by air too expensive to be touched by the ordinary.
And no one would find him.
Because no one knew her.
Anastasia sat in the darkness of her private study, screens glowing across her walls like a cathedral of code.
Her AI whispered behind her.
"Ten viral theories, seven of which involve kidnapping. Two think he ran away to become a monk. One thinks he's in Antarctica."
Her lips curved — not in amusement.
In boredom.
"Any valid traces?"
"Nothing. He left no devices. No digital trail. Not even a shadow."
Good.
She leaned back.
This was not the first time she had erased someone from the world's eyes.
But it was the first time someone had chosen to disappear into her silence rather than flee from it.
At 2:14 a.m., he stepped into the doorway.
Hair damp. T-shirt creased.
Holding his lyric book like it was holy.
He didn't speak.
Neither did she.
He stood there, uncertain. Not lost — Jaeheon Kang was never lost — but caught in something softer than indecision.
An unfamiliar pause.
She rose without a word.
Walked to him, quiet as a breath.
And before he could speak—
She leaned in, tilted his chin, and pressed her lips lightly against his.
A ghost of a kiss.
Not desire. Not longing.
Not yet.
Just something impossible and deliberate.
Something the world didn't deserve to witness.
When she pulled away, she looked him in the eye — cold, clear, unblinking.
"Consider it a reward."
He didn't move.
Didn't smile.
Didn't speak.
But the way his throat moved, the way his fingers curled slightly tighter around that lyric book—
She knew.
She stepped back.
He stayed.
Because where else could he go?
The world outside had no room for a man like him who loved like it was war.
But here, in the hush of her realm, in this silent empire of glass and shadow—
He had finally found a place to fall apart without being watched.
She returned to her chair.
He stood a little longer.
Then walked to the window.
Looked out at the city that would never know where he was.
And for the first time in ten years, she didn't tell him to leave.